


Old Lessons

by AParticularlyLargeBear



Series: Lessons [8]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:51:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9945056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AParticularlyLargeBear/pseuds/AParticularlyLargeBear
Summary: The Shepherds take an opportunity for some relaxation by joining in with a local festival. Kjelle isn't feeling in such a party mood.





	

The very idea of a harvest festival was simply bizarre. A festival meant fun, a party, food, time to spend away from the cares of the world. A festival was for friends and for family, to simply forget and enjoy oneself, if only for a little while.

Kjelle couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to just  _relax_. Back home, letting her guard down even for an instant was utterly unthinkable, dangerously irresponsible at best, almost tantamount to suicide. There was still danger here in the past, yet it wasn't nearly as suffocating and all-pervasive. Every rustle of grass or unexpected noise didn't herald the next unrelenting assault of undead nightmares.

It had taken Kjelle months to get used to the sensation of being safe. She still found her lance in her hand at a moment's notice. Vigilance was second nature to her now. Too many people had died for it to be otherwise. That other members of her group, her friends, had began to let their guards down was both unexpected and frustrating. Kjelle couldn't  _blame_ them, exactly, but she couldn't help how she felt either. They hadn't come back so that they could reconnect with their lost parents. They'd come back to save the world.

And yet there was Laurent with a rare smile on his face as he worked out where he'd inherited his enormous appetite from. There was Gerome, guardedly and quietly discussing sketches and artwork with his father. There was Owain, more theatrical than ever, looking  _younger_ than ever as he wove his wild tales, sending his mother into peals of laughter. Even Severa and Lucina, the two that could usually be relied upon to never waver from the course, seemed to be more preoccupied with their own personal baggage than maintaining their focus.

The impending festival had made it worse than ever. Owain's glee had been what could only be described as childlike, and for the first time in a long time, Kjelle was struck by how young he was. They'd had precious little time to be kids, back home. Had everyone forgotten what it was like to be hounded at every turn? To not know whether the next morning would be their last? Others, friends, family, hadn't made it to the past with them. It seemed inappropriate, disrespectful almost, to just start off a celebration. They'd laid down their lives to ensure Kjelle and the others could make it this far. What honour was that doing their memory, to diverge from their goals to throw a party?

And the worst of it was that part of Kjelle wanted to enjoy herself too. Precisely _because_ she hadn't had a chance to relax in so long. She'd had a lot of her own issues to work through since arriving back here. She'd spent the better part of a month sequestered away in her room whilst she struggled with the differences between  _then_ and  _now_. It was only recently that her friends had stopped treating her like she was made of glass, like to shatter at any second. Kjelle couldn't even blame them. If it had been someone else, she'd have been just as concerned.

Now here Kjelle was, standing awkwardly by a farmhouse decorated with colorful bunting. Jaunty music echoed from somewhere off to her right, where Kjelle knew the small town's square to be. The locals had been beyond thrilled to have their Exalt present for the harvest festival, and although Kjelle could tell Chrom had been a little reluctant, he'd soon enough been swept up in the holiday cheer. Morale counted for a lot, and having their royal family present for such a major event would doubtless raise spirits for years to come. Any reluctance on the part of the other Shepherds had rapidly dwindled to nothing, and some of the wilder members of the group had really started to paint the town red. Kjelle hadn't realised the human body had the capacity for mead that Vaike had demonstrated over the course of the day.

Kjelle and the others from the future had taken a sober moment alone, just the six of them, to drink to the memory of those who weren't with them today. Both the dead and the missing; and they could only pray to Naga that the latter camp hadn't swelled the numbers of the former. Holding on to that hope was hard; all of them remembered hoping and praying that their parents would come home safe, and all of them remembered that those prayers had gone unanswered. None of their friends had joined the group since Kjelle herself, and that had been months ago. Ever since, there hadn't been the slightest sign of them. No Nah, no Inigo or Brady, no Noire, no... no Morgan.

Early on Owain had been bursting to tell everyone about all of the others, gushing about 'Inigo of the Indigo skies' and his 'Justice Cabal'. Lucina had taken her cousin aside and, more harshly than Kjelle could remember her ever being, told him in no uncertain terms to cut it out.

_"They may be dead, Owain. Don't make their parents mourn for someone they may never meet."_

Owain, shaken, had gone quiet for the next few days.

Lucina's words were stern, but fair, and Kjelle understood why they'd been said. Indeed, why they'd  _needed_ to be said. All of them from the future, they didn't belong here. These weren't their parents, not really. The fact that this world had a baby Lucina was truth enough of that. What was the sense in getting attached, when they would be supplanted by their own younger selves? Moreover, if the others were... dead, then raising hopes was simply cruel. Better Vaike and Maribelle—just far enough along to show—focus their care on  _their_ Brady, than their concern on the missing Brady, Kjelle's friend.

The cold logic did nothing to disentangle Kjelle's knotted emotions about her parents.  She hadn't seen them for years before now, and no matter how many times Kjelle told herself that they weren't her real mothers, her heart stubbornly refused to accept the truth.

And harshness asides, those realities hadn't stopped Lucina from presenting her father with a pink puffy pastry, giving her mother a quite horrific orange and green scarf. It hadn't stopped Laurent sharing a book with his mother, or Gerome 'accidentally' leaving a sketch of his mother with his dad's effects.

None of them could let go. None of them could bring themselves to.

" _There_ you are!"

Kjelle just about jumped out of her skin as a raucous voice sounded from nearby. She looked around to see her mother bearing down on her, a lance slung over her shoulder and a wineskin in her hand. Her face was flushed, and Kjelle couldn't tell whether it was from raised spirits or alcoholic ones.

"Was wondering where you'd got to. How we doin', kiddo?"

Sully thumped Kjelle on the shoulder hard enough to make her wince. Sometimes she was more like an older sister than a parent. Because she wasn't a parent. She  _wasn't_. "I'm fine."

"Uh-huh," Sully leaned back and gave her a critical look. "You're just like your mom, you know that?"

Kjelle made a noncommittal noise. She didn't want to talk about her other parental unit.

Sully didn't take the hint. "She's just as bad 'bout bottling things up. Can't say I'm surprised you ain't the life of the party."

"I'm fine," Kjelle repeated. "There are some things on my mind, that's all."

Cracking a grin, Sully shook her head. "When I first saw you, I thought you had everything in common with me. Longer I've known you, the more like Eddi I think you are."

Woohoo. Kjelle tried not to make a face, but there was some truth to that, she knew. Sully was boisterous and loud. Kjelle was withdrawn and serious; so was Eddi. She tried to change the subject. "I thought you'd be with her."

"Eh, spent most of the day with her. Need to make some time for friends and my kid."

"You did?" Kjelle paused, hesitated. "I mean, I saw most everyone else at the party, not either of you."

"Wasn't at the party," Sully said it just smugly enough to be worrying.

"What were you doing?" Kjelle regretted the words the instant they left her mouth.

"Your mom."

Kjelle opened her mouth. Kjelle shut it again. There were quite literally no words to respond to that. Sully broke out into a grin, and then into a cackling laugh.

"Haw! You should see your face, kiddo!" she was beaming at her. Kjelle felt like her face had to be on fire with how hard she was blushing. There were certain things that one never needed to hear from their mother.

Thankfully, Sully appeared to take mercy after that as her laughter subsided. Her expression sobered up, and she hefted the lance with some effort.

"Sorry, just making fun. I got something for you."

Kjelle frowned, feeling awkward— _more_ awkward about receiving something from her mother. Her friends had been buzzing about gifts, whilst Kjelle had tried not to think about it too hard. Things were still tense between her and Eddi, and Sully half the time seemed to view her more like a training partner than a daughter. That and, well, as futile as it probably was, Kjelle was trying as hard as she could to keep some distance. It was easier that way. Should have been easier that way.

Instead she found herself flooded with guilt at the fact she hadn't a gift of her own for Sully.

If her mom picked up on her mood, she blessedly said nothing about it, and instead presented the lance. "Here. S'for trainin'."

Kjelle took it, and then nearly dropped the damn thing on the floor as Sully let go. It was  _heavy_ , way heavier than an ordinary weapon. Sully grinned again, and Kjelle glanced at her quizzically.

"The haft is weighted," Sully nudged her with an elbow. "That'll put some muscle on ya, eh?"

"And my armour won't?" Kjelle had trained in that method before, loading her armour with stones and running laps or doing reps.

"Different muscle groups, kiddo," Sully replied, patting a bicep, then the top of her shoulder. "Get used to swingin' that around, and the real thing will start to feel light as a feather."

Kjelle nodded. "I'll give it a try. ...Thanks."

"Don't mention it. What's a mom for, if not teaching her kid to kick ass?"

Being there. Not dying.

"You'd know better than me."

Sully snorted. "Honestly, I'm wingin' it. Kinda weird to meet your daughter for the first time when she's already grown up."

"Kinda weird to meet your parents  _before_ they grew up."

"Haw. I spose it must be."

They stood there in silence for a few moments. Kjelle shifted her feet. Sully tilted her head to the side. "Your friends are all in the town square. Do you wanna come with?"

Kjelle shook her head. "I'm pretty tired," she lied. "And I don't want to rain on the parade."

Sully's brow creased with concern. "Well, maybe take a nap and join in later? I'd hate for you to miss it."

"Sure, I'll do that," Kjelle lied again, and that seemed to mollify Sully.

"Okay. Take care of yourself, kiddo."

That was two lies already, so what was a third? "Always do." 

Sully nodded, shot her one last grin, and then took off back down the street, humming off-key notes to herself. She was a little drunk, but only a little. Kjelle knew what drunk Sully looked like. She'd seen it often in her own timeline after Chrom and Eddi died. At least today her mom was just drinking as part of the festivities.

Kjelle watched her go for a few seconds longer, and then headed back towards the Shepherds' camp, lugging the new lance the whole way. There was a disused collection of barns on the outskirts of town, and the mayor had kindly offered them up for the group's use. Along with the usual conglomeration of tents, these were some of the best conditions they'd had to sleep in for weeks. Kjelle had opted to stick with her tent, using the walls of one of the buildings as a windbreak. She preferred her privacy; if the weather got severe, she could always just head on inside.

Under non-storm conditions, though? Kjelle would take being on her own over a little extra warmth.

She wouldn't call herself a loner per se, she'd just found herself needing more space recently. Kjelle wasn't usually a worrier, but her brother was still missing, one of her parents wasn't acting like it and the other may as well have been a different person—which opened up an entirely new can of worms besides.

So preoccupied with her own thoughts was she that Kjelle didn't even register that her tent flap was askew before she actually stepped inside.

The figure standing there, though, that snapped Kjelle out of her reverie in a hurry. They whirled, and there was Eddi, wearing an exceptionally guilty expression. The Exalt's adviser, the Shepherd's tactician.

Kjelle's mother.

"Kjelle! Ah, I—I wasn't expecting you back so soon!"

"What are you doing in here?" Kjelle clamped down on her anger, as much as she wanted to  _demand_ that answer.

Eddi huffed a sigh, and then produced a parcel from behind her back. It seemed to be two square objects, one slightly smaller than the other. "I was hoping to leave this for you when you got back," she explained, and then held it out. "Here, it's for you."

Kjelle hesitated, and then took the package. "I... thanks."

Eddi hovered there for a second, and Kjelle glanced down to the parcel. She didn't especially want to, but she supposed it wouldn't do much harm to humour her. Setting down the lance, she eased off the length of ribbon securing the package, and then unwrapped the cloth. Beneath, on top of a hinged case, was a red book—no, a  _tome_. She looked back up to Eddi.

"You mentioned wanting to learn anima, so I thought you might, you know... like a tome?"

She almost sounded like she wasn't sure herself. Kjelle slowly nodded. "I appreciate it, mother."

"Good! That's... good. Um," Eddi made an aimless gesture with her hands. "Miriel is a very good teacher, if you need help."

Miriel, not herself. Kjelle felt another guilty pang. "I... wouldn't mind learning with you."

Eddi looked halfway between smiling and wondering where the joke was. "I'm in strategy meetings a lot, but sure. Whenever I have the time."

"I'll look forward to it." Kjelle looked her mother up and down, noting the dark rings underneath her eyes. "You're always so busy... Why aren't you at the festival? You could use the break."

"I'm ah, not much of a party person," Eddi shifted slightly. "Not much of a people person, actually."

"Me neither," Kjelle replied.

Eddi's lips curled the slightest bit upwards. "I suppose we have a little in common after all," she pointed towards the case. "You should open that up. Careful though, you don't want to drop it everywhere."

Kjelle glanced back to the case, and then clicked it open.

Immediately, she realised it wasn't exactly a case after all, rather a combination of container and fold-in... checkers?

As carved wooden pieces rattled and rolled around, and two halves of a board clicked into place, Kjelle realised she was holding a chess set.

Tears prickled in her eyes, and she glanced back up to Eddi, who was anxiously trying to gauge her reaction.

"I, um, I thought maybe, well, I thought that I'd want to play chess with my children. So I, uh, I figured that your—that is, the other me, probably taught you how."

Kjelle swallowed hard, fighting back the dam that was threatening to give way. "You did, mom."

Eddi smiled properly then, and Kjelle faintly realised it was the first time she'd seen that expression on that face for years. "I'll leave you be. I'm um, I'm sorry for sneaking into your tent."

A nod, and then she stepped past Kjelle.

"Wait."

Eddi stopped, looked back.

Kjelle swiped at her eyes with her sleeve. "Do you... want to play a game?"

The smile returned. "Of course. There never seems to be enough time to play."

Kjelle nodded, and then sat down, clearing a space on the floor to begin setting up the board. The set was well made, the carvings stylised rather than intricate. It was different from the one Kjelle had grown up with; that had been of Ylissean design, each pawn bearing a shield with the Brand of the Exalt on it, pegasi for the knights, and a king carrying a representation of Falchion. This set was a lot more, well, functional. Little soldier pawns, proud horses and stately bishops. Kjelle figured it was probably Plegian, but even so, it lacked the usual adornments of many of the traditional sets.

Eddi sat opposite her, deftly arranging her own side of the board. She went straight for black, Kjelle noticed. Just like always. The board arrayed, they sat in silence for a couple of seconds, and then Kjelle nudged forward a pawn.

They played quietly, neither speaking. It was like going back to her childhood, only faster. Whenever Kjelle had played with Eddi before, her mother had been methodical, taking consideration and time over her every move. It had driven her crazy; she had such a limited amount of time to spend with her, and she would think long and hard about every move. It was only later that Kjelle had come to realise that much like everything else, that had been another lesson: patience. 

And with things going quickly, Kjelle made an error that she recognised the second that her fingers let the piece drop. She didn't react outwardly, tried not to let it show on her face.

Eddi paused for a moment longer than she had been, and then made a conservative move that didn't capitalise on the slip.

Kjelle felt a sudden swell of anger. Had she really missed that? Or was she just ...

She moved another piece. A move that she knew was a mistake, if a smaller one.

Eddi smiled, and it was neither affectionate nor joyful. It was predatory.

And then she went onto the offensive.

Over the next ten minutes, she systematically dismantled Kjelle's formation, exploiting the errors, and then forcing more and more. Kjelle scrambled to adapt, but was always on the back foot, driven further and further back onto the defensive.

Eddi looked up. "Checkmate."

Kjelle sat back, and then began to laugh. Her mother blinked, her eyebrows rising.

And she kept laughing, because this  _was_ her mother. Younger, more tentative, and less confident, but that streak of ruthlessness, well, it was still there, even if only in chess. It  _was_ her mother.

"Are you... are you okay, Kjelle?"

"I'm fine," and for the first time today, she meant it. "I'm great," she leaned forward, and Eddi let out a surprised noise as Kjelle wrapped her in a fierce embrace. The laughter gave way to more choked tears. "I love you, mom, I love you."

"I... I love you too, Kjelle," Eddi's voice was a little strangled too.

Finally, months after meeting her, she'd found her mom again.


End file.
